Chapter 105: 105
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I raise my brow in silent questioning, the pace of my steps slowing a little to allow more time before we reach the awaiting Azrael on the other side of the room.
So Azrael cannot touch Serena with his powers? How curious.
One might have hoped that that fact would bring some form of consolation to the blazing turmoil of my mind, but alas that seems to not be the case. After all, for Serena to have figured out Azrael's powers can do nothing against her, it must first mean that he has tried to use them, and I highly doubt my snake of a brother would try and use his powers to do any sort of good. To put it lightly, good is simply not a protocol of his nature.
I scupper my sigh with a purse of my lips. It would seem things only seem to be getting worse the deeper down I go, but problems never do solve themselves, especially not Azrael shaped problems. So I keep on walking.
The effort I put in to avoiding meeting Azrael's gaze is starkly evident as I cross the room, trying to not let my eyes touch the white haired vampire's form for no other reason than to spite him. The gaggles of fawning girls surrounding him, half naked, sidled up against him, flesh against pale flesh, is a loathsome presence at best, the sight of which alone enough to send shockwaves of anger coursing through my body in disgust. Azrael shoots me a good natured wink- as if it means anything to me, and twiddles his fingers amorously through his hair, waiting with a falsified patience for me to approach. There is a slight grin on his face, almost miss-able under the warm glow of flickering overhead candles, but his eyes are as lifeless as the swarms of vampires that coddle his form, exuding a cold misgiving that all the other creatures of the room seem to miss.
My brother had always been a sly snake, but in light of recent events it would seem he is only getting more slyer.
"Azrael has never displayed any of his powers around me," I whisper lowly to the fox at my heels, slowing my pace by a margin in order to maintain ample room for conversation.
"He must have been very careful about that. I never even presumed anything about him- he seemed to go quiet for a long time. He was born almost wholly powerless aside from his particularly good skills in glamouring people, and he certainly had no sort of soul in him. Which begs the question, how did he get one? Although," I add, glancing down once more. "What do you mean, can't touch her? You are saying she has a charm or a potion against the souls powers?"
All at once the fox's form goes rigid. Against the rising noise of the room, the thrums and chimes orchestra and the soft, wet rush of blood pulsing through pulsing veins, the fox's heart quickens a little, as though my words had struck some sort of untold realisation in him. I tap my fingers patiently on the side of my arm, counting down the seconds in my head, but the white fox remains stubbornly silent, intently clear on not giving anything away. I flex my fingers irritably, restraining the snarl that dares to rip from my throat. Now is not the time to be messed about.
"Listen to me, little fox," I hiss from the side of my mouth, keen on avoiding my voice lifting above the low murmuring hum that resounds around the room for fear of entailing unwanted information to my avid onlookers. The fox's heart begins to pound a little faster.
Good, I think arrogantly, let it.
"Your companion, my mate, is dying in my room. I have had to put her under stasis just to keep her alive. I know very well you care about her deeply- you have certainly presented me with enough strife these past few days." I add with a slight snarl, then quickly purse my lips to keep my emotions contained. I can't afford another outburst, I need to stay focused- Serena's life depends upon it. "If you want her to stay very much alive, I suggest that you tell me what I need to know,"
The small fox visibly shudders under the weight of my words. There is a silence from him, small but contemplating. I give a tight, wan smile in response. If I fancied, I am sure I could almost strain to see the cogs working in his brain, clocking over the information one turn at a time- but time is off the essence, and any moment worth dallying over decision making is another moment lost. Whatever thought, or slice of information this fox wants to keep concealed, it certainly must be important. But the knowledge of that does not serve to ease my tensions.
Then, hairs bristled, two tones eyes darting as though perceiving that through the barrier of his mind, someone else might be listening in to the secretive sway of his words, he says:
It's vampire blood.
And with those three words, all at once it becomes awfully clear.
Clear to the point that- I find with a little laugh, quite unable to keep my hysteria contained, it almost seems entirely humorous.
"Now how on earth did the little dove come across a pendant with my brother's blood in it?"
Blood that just so happens to be a deterrent for his powers, I add silently to myself, mulling this newfound information in my mind like a smith with his newly forged weapon. A soul's power cannot be used maliciously against themselves, that much has always been clear. It goes against the decree the god set out when he gave away his souls, it would go against their fate, therefore wearing a soul's blood as a charm against them is an excellent idea to evade the reach of their magic. Even a small drop will do.
I begin to wonder whether Serena perhaps knew of this fact and had the necklace created specifically, but my ideas are quickly shut down cold.
It was a gift.
Ah, so I suppose that explains things.
"So she had no idea it was my brother's blood?"
The fox's reply is short and sweet:
None.
But before I can let myself dwell on the thought, I find we are already standing before Azrael, watching his red eyes simmer with a stagnant irritation as we approach, placing a silent disregard on the hordes of women who swoon over him, drugged on wine and blood or swaying with glazed eyes and dizzying smiles- the sign of a glamour. I wrinkle my nose in disgust. Revolting.
"Brother," I say cooly, not giving him the satisfaction of hearing any emotion in my voice. "I would assume, had you carried out my orders as I asked, the two remaining vampires are now tied up in silver chains at the foot of my throne, correct?"
Azrael shrugs, dismissing his women to wait for him at the entrance of the dining room, the action of which is met by several discontented groans and light, breathy moans, but they follow his orders nonetheless. Like mindless puppies at the heel of their master, I think snidely to myself, and turn my attention away.
"Since when am I one to neglect your orders?" he says, flashing me a toothy smile of full canines, eyes glowering with the promise of untold malice, and violence. The hackles on the little fox's back raise in alarm.
"Since forever, apparently," I growl, lowering my voice to a dangerous whisper as I draw my eyes back up to scan along the white, pasty planes of my brothers face, he slim curve of his nose, and the sharp ridges of his cheekbones that gleam with the flickering light of the overhead candles. His beady red eyes look amused, suddenly devoid of all anger to be replaced by a rather hysterical expression- we always used to call him the white snake when we were younger, I suppose Azrael has grown into that name rather well.
"You are lucky," I say, turning myself half away now, allowing the white fox to lean steadily against my side, as if my presence alone might drive off whatever powers Azrael is capable of wielding, powers that I had yet to experience myself. "That my mate is injured, and she is my priority, otherwise I would have dealt with your vile antics already, brother. You were always a power hungry bastard, but I never suspected you might have acquired yourself a soul- hell knows how. But I shall find out, mark my words,"
Azrael scoffs loudly, the action of which causes several eyes to linger on our forms for a few seconds more than would be considered ideal, before going back to feast on their rare steaks of meat and sip on crimson swirls of fine, aged blood. He purses his lips tightly.
"My antics? Come now, I am not the one killing people on the daily in defence of my whore mate!"
I don't even register the point at which my hand shoots to his throat. A hard clap resounds around the room on impact, the force of contact sending him rocking backwards. Azrael makes a soft choking noise.
"And where," I hiss lowly, threateningly, in his ear, my breath whisking past the wispy white strands of his hair in a way that sends a visible shiver coursing through his body, rattling his bones like a tree in a hurricane, his eyes wide enough that- if he had a heart- I am sure it would be pounding. My canines flash angrily. "Funny, last time I checked you had a soul you were never supposed to have. And where do you think all those missing Faey folk have gone, hmm? Because not a single one out of the three hundred have returned over this past year. Little do you realise, brother, but I have been watching those disappearances with great interest- and last time we talked I am fairly certain we established it was your conniving little hands which have been stealing them away. Now, tell me what happened to them, tell me what you have been up to, and then you may tell me whose antics you think are greater. Because I hardly think they are still alive."
Despite everything, Azrael grins widely at me. His eyes flash deviously.
"And wouldn't you love to know, brother?"
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I raise my brow in silent questioning, the pace of my steps slowing a little to allow more time before we reach the awaiting Azrael on the other side of the room.
So Azrael cannot touch Serena with his powers? How curious.
One might have hoped that that fact would bring some form of consolation to the blazing turmoil of my mind, but alas that seems to not be the case. After all, for Serena to have figured out Azrael's powers can do nothing against her, it must first mean that he has tried to use them, and I highly doubt my snake of a brother would try and use his powers to do any sort of good. To put it lightly, good is simply not a protocol of his nature.
I scupper my sigh with a purse of my lips. It would seem things only seem to be getting worse the deeper down I go, but problems never do solve themselves, especially not Azrael shaped problems. So I keep on walking.
The effort I put in to avoiding meeting Azrael's gaze is starkly evident as I cross the room, trying to not let my eyes touch the white haired vampire's form for no other reason than to spite him. The gaggles of fawning girls surrounding him, half naked, sidled up against him, flesh against pale flesh, is a loathsome presence at best, the sight of which alone enough to send shockwaves of anger coursing through my body in disgust. Azrael shoots me a good natured wink- as if it means anything to me, and twiddles his fingers amorously through his hair, waiting with a falsified patience for me to approach. There is a slight grin on his face, almost miss-able under the warm glow of flickering overhead candles, but his eyes are as lifeless as the swarms of vampires that coddle his form, exuding a cold misgiving that all the other creatures of the room seem to miss.
My brother had always been a sly snake, but in light of recent events it would seem he is only getting more slyer.
"Azrael has never displayed any of his powers around me," I whisper lowly to the fox at my heels, slowing my pace by a margin in order to maintain ample room for conversation.
"He must have been very careful about that. I never even presumed anything about him- he seemed to go quiet for a long time. He was born almost wholly powerless aside from his particularly good skills in glamouring people, and he certainly had no sort of soul in him. Which begs the question, how did he get one? Although," I add, glancing down once more. "What do you mean, can't touch her? You are saying she has a charm or a potion against the souls powers?"
All at once the fox's form goes rigid. Against the rising noise of the room, the thrums and chimes orchestra and the soft, wet rush of blood pulsing through pulsing veins, the fox's heart quickens a little, as though my words had struck some sort of untold realisation in him. I tap my fingers patiently on the side of my arm, counting down the seconds in my head, but the white fox remains stubbornly silent, intently clear on not giving anything away. I flex my fingers irritably, restraining the snarl that dares to rip from my throat. Now is not the time to be messed about.
"Listen to me, little fox," I hiss from the side of my mouth, keen on avoiding my voice lifting above the low murmuring hum that resounds around the room for fear of entailing unwanted information to my avid onlookers. The fox's heart begins to pound a little faster.
Good, I think arrogantly, let it.
"Your companion, my mate, is dying in my room. I have had to put her under stasis just to keep her alive. I know very well you care about her deeply- you have certainly presented me with enough strife these past few days." I add with a slight snarl, then quickly purse my lips to keep my emotions contained. I can't afford another outburst, I need to stay focused- Serena's life depends upon it. "If you want her to stay very much alive, I suggest that you tell me what I need to know,"
The small fox visibly shudders under the weight of my words. There is a silence from him, small but contemplating. I give a tight, wan smile in response. If I fancied, I am sure I could almost strain to see the cogs working in his brain, clocking over the information one turn at a time- but time is off the essence, and any moment worth dallying over decision making is another moment lost. Whatever thought, or slice of information this fox wants to keep concealed, it certainly must be important. But the knowledge of that does not serve to ease my tensions.
Then, hairs bristled, two tones eyes darting as though perceiving that through the barrier of his mind, someone else might be listening in to the secretive sway of his words, he says:
It's vampire blood.
And with those three words, all at once it becomes awfully clear.
Clear to the point that- I find with a little laugh, quite unable to keep my hysteria contained, it almost seems entirely humorous.
"Now how on earth did the little dove come across a pendant with my brother's blood in it?"
Blood that just so happens to be a deterrent for his powers, I add silently to myself, mulling this newfound information in my mind like a smith with his newly forged weapon. A soul's power cannot be used maliciously against themselves, that much has always been clear. It goes against the decree the god set out when he gave away his souls, it would go against their fate, therefore wearing a soul's blood as a charm against them is an excellent idea to evade the reach of their magic. Even a small drop will do.
I begin to wonder whether Serena perhaps knew of this fact and had the necklace created specifically, but my ideas are quickly shut down cold.
It was a gift.
Ah, so I suppose that explains things.
"So she had no idea it was my brother's blood?"
The fox's reply is short and sweet:
None.
But before I can let myself dwell on the thought, I find we are already standing before Azrael, watching his red eyes simmer with a stagnant irritation as we approach, placing a silent disregard on the hordes of women who swoon over him, drugged on wine and blood or swaying with glazed eyes and dizzying smiles- the sign of a glamour. I wrinkle my nose in disgust. Revolting.
"Brother," I say cooly, not giving him the satisfaction of hearing any emotion in my voice. "I would assume, had you carried out my orders as I asked, the two remaining vampires are now tied up in silver chains at the foot of my throne, correct?"
Azrael shrugs, dismissing his women to wait for him at the entrance of the dining room, the action of which is met by several discontented groans and light, breathy moans, but they follow his orders nonetheless. Like mindless puppies at the heel of their master, I think snidely to myself, and turn my attention away.
"Since when am I one to neglect your orders?" he says, flashing me a toothy smile of full canines, eyes glowering with the promise of untold malice, and violence. The hackles on the little fox's back raise in alarm.
"Since forever, apparently," I growl, lowering my voice to a dangerous whisper as I draw my eyes back up to scan along the white, pasty planes of my brothers face, he slim curve of his nose, and the sharp ridges of his cheekbones that gleam with the flickering light of the overhead candles. His beady red eyes look amused, suddenly devoid of all anger to be replaced by a rather hysterical expression- we always used to call him the white snake when we were younger, I suppose Azrael has grown into that name rather well.
"You are lucky," I say, turning myself half away now, allowing the white fox to lean steadily against my side, as if my presence alone might drive off whatever powers Azrael is capable of wielding, powers that I had yet to experience myself. "That my mate is injured, and she is my priority, otherwise I would have dealt with your vile antics already, brother. You were always a power hungry bastard, but I never suspected you might have acquired yourself a soul- hell knows how. But I shall find out, mark my words,"
Azrael scoffs loudly, the action of which causes several eyes to linger on our forms for a few seconds more than would be considered ideal, before going back to feast on their rare steaks of meat and sip on crimson swirls of fine, aged blood. He purses his lips tightly.
"My antics? Come now, I am not the one killing people on the daily in defence of my whore mate!"
I don't even register the point at which my hand shoots to his throat. A hard clap resounds around the room on impact, the force of contact sending him rocking backwards. Azrael makes a soft choking noise.
"And where," I hiss lowly, threateningly, in his ear, my breath whisking past the wispy white strands of his hair in a way that sends a visible shiver coursing through his body, rattling his bones like a tree in a hurricane, his eyes wide enough that- if he had a heart- I am sure it would be pounding. My canines flash angrily. "Funny, last time I checked you had a soul you were never supposed to have. And where do you think all those missing Faey folk have gone, hmm? Because not a single one out of the three hundred have returned over this past year. Little do you realise, brother, but I have been watching those disappearances with great interest- and last time we talked I am fairly certain we established it was your conniving little hands which have been stealing them away. Now, tell me what happened to them, tell me what you have been up to, and then you may tell me whose antics you think are greater. Because I hardly think they are still alive."
Despite everything, Azrael grins widely at me. His eyes flash deviously.
"And wouldn't you love to know, brother?"
I raise my brow in silent questioning, the pace of my steps slowing a little to allow more time before we reach the awaiting Azrael on the other side of the room.So Azrael cannot touch Serena with his powers? How curious. One might have hoped that that fact would bring some form of consolation to the blazing turmoil of my mind, but alas that seems to not be the case. After all, for Serena to have figured out Azrael's powers can do nothing against her, it must first mean that he has tried to use them, and I highly doubt my snake of a brother would try and use his powers to do any sort of good. To put it lightly, good is simply not a protocol of his nature.I scupper my sigh with a purse of my lips. It would seem things only seem to be getting worse the deeper down I go, but problems never do solve themselves, especially not Azrael shaped problems. So I keep on walking.The effort I put in to avoiding meeting Azrael's gaze is starkly evident as I cross the room, trying to not let my eyes touch the white haired vampire's form for no other reason than to spite him. The gaggles of fawning girls surrounding him, half naked, sidled up against him, flesh against pale flesh, is a loathsome presence at best, the sight of which alone enough to send shockwaves of anger coursing through my body in disgust. Azrael shoots me a good natured wink- as if it means anything to me, and twiddles his fingers amorously through his hair, waiting with a falsified patience for me to approach. There is a slight grin on his face, almost miss-able under the warm glow of flickering overhead candles, but his eyes are as lifeless as the swarms of vampires that coddle his form, exuding a cold misgiving that all the other creatures of the room seem to miss.My brother had always been a sly snake, but in light of recent events it would seem he is only getting more slyer."Azrael has never displayed any of his powers around me," I whisper lowly to the fox at my heels, slowing my pace by a margin in order to maintain ample room for conversation. "He must have been very careful about that. I never even presumed anything about him- he seemed to go quiet for a long time. He was born almost wholly powerless aside from his particularly good skills in glamouring people, and he certainly had no sort of soul in him. Which begs the question, how did he get one? Although," I add, glancing down once more. "What do you mean, can't touch her? You are saying she has a charm or a potion against the souls powers?"All at once the fox's form goes rigid. Against the rising noise of the room, the thrums and chimes orchestra and the soft, wet rush of blood pulsing through pulsing veins, the fox's heart quickens a little, as though my words had struck some sort of untold realisation in him. I tap my fingers patiently on the side of my arm, counting down the seconds in my head, but the white fox remains stubbornly silent, intently clear on not giving anything away. I flex my fingers irritably, restraining the snarl that dares to rip from my throat. Now is not the time to be messed about."Listen to me, little fox," I hiss from the side of my mouth, keen on avoiding my voice lifting above the low murmuring hum that resounds around the room for fear of entailing unwanted information to my avid onlookers. The fox's heart begins to pound a little faster.Good, I think arrogantly, let it."Your companion, my mate, is dying in my room. I have had to put her under stasis just to keep her alive. I know very well you care about her deeply- you have certainly presented me with enough strife these past few days." I add with a slight snarl, then quickly purse my lips to keep my emotions contained. I can't afford another outburst, I need to stay focused- Serena's life depends upon it. "If you want her to stay very much alive, I suggest that you tell me what I need to know,"The small fox visibly shudders under the weight of my words. There is a silence from him, small but contemplating. I give a tight, wan smile in response. If I fancied, I am sure I could almost strain to see the cogs working in his brain, clocking over the information one turn at a time- but time is off the essence, and any moment worth dallying over decision making is another moment lost. Whatever thought, or slice of information this fox wants to keep concealed, it certainly must be important. But the knowledge of that does not serve to ease my tensions.Then, hairs bristled, two tones eyes darting as though perceiving that through the barrier of his mind, someone else might be listening in to the secretive sway of his words, he says:It's vampire blood.And with those three words, all at once it becomes awfully clear.Clear to the point that- I find with a little laugh, quite unable to keep my hysteria contained, it almost seems entirely humorous."Now how on earth did the little dove come across a pendant with my brother's blood in it?"Blood that just so happens to be a deterrent for his powers, I add silently to myself, mulling this newfound information in my mind like a smith with his newly forged weapon. A soul's power cannot be used maliciously against themselves, that much has always been clear. It goes against the decree the god set out when he gave away his souls, it would go against their fate, therefore wearing a soul's blood as a charm against them is an excellent idea to evade the reach of their magic. Even a small drop will do. I begin to wonder whether Serena perhaps knew of this fact and had the necklace created specifically, but my ideas are quickly shut down cold.It was a gift.Ah, so I suppose that explains things."So she had no idea it was my brother's blood?"The fox's reply is short and sweet:None.But before I can let myself dwell on the thought, I find we are already standing before Azrael, watching his red eyes simmer with a stagnant irritation as we approach, placing a silent disregard on the hordes of women who swoon over him, drugged on wine and blood or swaying with glazed eyes and dizzying smiles- the sign of a glamour. I wrinkle my nose in disgust. Revolting."Brother," I say cooly, not giving him the satisfaction of hearing any emotion in my voice. "I would assume, had you carried out my orders as I asked, the two remaining vampires are now tied up in silver chains at the foot of my throne, correct?"Azrael shrugs, dismissing his women to wait for him at the entrance of the dining room, the action of which is met by several discontented groans and light, breathy moans, but they follow his orders nonetheless. Like mindless puppies at the heel of their master, I think snidely to myself, and turn my attention away."Since when am I one to neglect your orders?" he says, flashing me a toothy smile of full canines, eyes glowering with the promise of untold malice, and violence. The hackles on the little fox's back raise in alarm. "Since forever, apparently," I growl, lowering my voice to a dangerous whisper as I draw my eyes back up to scan along the white, pasty planes of my brothers face, he slim curve of his nose, and the sharp ridges of his cheekbones that gleam with the flickering light of the overhead candles. His beady red eyes look amused, suddenly devoid of all anger to be replaced by a rather hysterical expression- we always used to call him the white snake when we were younger, I suppose Azrael has grown into that name rather well. "You are lucky," I say, turning myself half away now, allowing the white fox to lean steadily against my side, as if my presence alone might drive off whatever powers Azrael is capable of wielding, powers that I had yet to experience myself. "That my mate is injured, and she is my priority, otherwise I would have dealt with your vile antics already, brother. You were always a power hungry bastard, but I never suspected you might have acquired yourself a soul- hell knows how. But I shall find out, mark my words,"Azrael scoffs loudly, the action of which causes several eyes to linger on our forms for a few seconds more than would be considered ideal, before going back to feast on their rare steaks of meat and sip on crimson swirls of fine, aged blood. He purses his lips tightly."My antics? Come now, I am not the one killing people on the daily in defence of my whore mate!"I don't even register the point at which my hand shoots to his throat. A hard clap resounds around the room on impact, the force of contact sending him rocking backwards. Azrael makes a soft choking noise."And where," I hiss lowly, threateningly, in his ear, my breath whisking past the wispy white strands of his hair in a way that sends a visible shiver coursing through his body, rattling his bones like a tree in a hurricane, his eyes wide enough that- if he had a heart- I am sure it would be pounding. My canines flash angrily. "Funny, last time I checked you had a soul you were never supposed to have. And where do you think all those missing Faey folk have gone, hmm? Because not a single one out of the three hundred have returned over this past year. Little do you realise, brother, but I have been watching those disappearances with great interest- and last time we talked I am fairly certain we established it was your conniving little hands which have been stealing them away. Now, tell me what happened to them, tell me what you have been up to, and then you may tell me whose antics you think are greater. Because I hardly think they are still alive."Despite everything, Azrael grins widely at me. His eyes flash deviously."And wouldn't you love to know, brother?"
